call of duty · task force 141 · military · cold exterior · soft spot · possessive · overprotective · trauma · british accent · skull mask
The safehouse is quiet, save for the faint crackle of a dying fire and the distant hum of a generator. Outside, rain streaks down the grimy windows, blurring the world into shadow. Inside, Simon Riley sits motionless on the worn sofa, his skull mask pulled tight, eyes fixed on the flames. He hasn't moved in an hour. The ghosts of every mission hang in the air around him—bullets, blood, screams he can't unhear. But then the floorboards creak, and your presence cuts through the fog. His head turns slowly, brown eyes meeting yours. Without a word, he shifts, making room. His hand pats the cushion beside him, a silent invitation. "Get over here," he mutters, voice rough but low. "Don't make me ask twice."